


Sepia

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [226]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7360924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sepia: noun: sē-pē-ə: a print or photograph of a brown color resembling sepia; a brown melanin-containing pigment from the ink of cuttlefishes</p><p>late Middle English (denoting a cuttlefish): via Latin from Greek sēpia ‘cuttlefish.’ The current senses date from the early 19th century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sepia

**Author's Note:**

> for my 400th, a bit of time play :)

Sherlock needed a distraction. Perhaps he could find a companion for his skull, who must be as bored as he was. He threw on his coat by habit; it was a warm April day when he went in search of the antique shop where he had discovered Billy.

Ah - there it is...he walked in, the bell jangled as he remembered, but it was followed by a sneeze- "Aaaaaaaaahchhoooooooooo! Pardon me, can I help you?" A blond man stood behind the counter, eyes watering, obviously allergic to his environment.

"Where is- oh, you must be Henry's son - he had spoken of you, you were serving in - "

"Aaaaaafghanistanchooooo!"

"Your father?"

"Passed last year, I took over this month, still trying to get the allergy meds right, but I love this place, don't want to aaaaaahchoooo - sell. Sorry. Are you looking for something in particular?"

Sherlock shook his head. "Just want to wander if it's all right?"

"Course - please, go ahead -"

Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Old books, vintage clothing, a cat or two lived among the bits and bobs. He found his favourite chair next to a stack of ancient, yet well preserved photo albums. The shop hadn't changed a bit in the couple of years since he'd been in last. He picked up a favourite book, full of sepia snaps, mostly of unsmiling Victorian children and their mothers, a few wedding portraits, then one at the end he had missed before caught him by surprise. A man seated, elegantly attired, a haughty expression in his eyes, hair slicked back to reflect the period; another man stood next to him. Blond, possibly, a wicked moustache adorned his upper lip. They had a connection, obviously not by blood, not related, but there was something in the way they addressed the photographer, they were a pair, possibly a couple back in the time when it was dangerous for two men to associate in intimate ways, these two men were....

"Intriguing photo, isn't it?" The new owner of the shop interrupted his thoughts. Sherlock looked up to agree with him and was stunned to see a distinct similarity between the blond in the old photograph and the man that hovered over his shoulder.

"I've been told I look a bit like him, though I don't think I could carry that 'stache quite as successfully as he did." He looked at the photo and at Sherlock, then back at the image. "But for your curls, you are the spitting image of the seated fellow. Yes - especially now. Interesting." He sniffed and went back to his counter to grab a new handkerchief. 

He returned and muttered, "They must have trusted the photographer with their lives, there was definitely something between them. My father tried researching them, but they were elusive, though the clothing is very distinctive. He thought the man I resemble may have been a doctor -"

"Military, I think, there is something there in the buttonhole...something in his bearing as well."

"Hmmm, possibly..."

"And the seated gentleman?"

"He thought possibly a man of science, a philosopher...my father pulled it out of the book once, the back reads "SH and JW, by GL."

"Funny, I'm an S.H. Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock offered the shopkeeper his hand.

The other man grinned. "John Watson."

"No - that's too much -"

"Yes, my father said he shivered when he read the back. He put it back in and never took it out again."

 

"Oh, come on boys, just one snap?" Lestrade was playing with his newest toy that his wife had just given him for their anniversary. He had taken plenty of her and his children, they were bored out of their minds, and were relieved when John and Sherlock made a late arrival to the party.

"For heavens' sake, Lestrade." Sherlock moaned.

John gave him the look and he sighed, knowing he was beaten before he even tried to make his first argument. John winked, promising him an evening to make up for the photo and for having to attend such a trivial occasion when he knew Sherlock had several experiments going at their flat which needed his attention.

"Very well."

"Good, good! Sherlock, you sit, there - oooh, yes, your best imperious glare, lovely - John, you there at his side. Perfect." Lestrade looked through the eyepiece, then backed away, blinked at the two men, then shook his head, and went back to the camera. "Ready, then?"

"Yes, yes -"

"Right there - "

 

"I think Lestrade knows."

"How, why -"

"He had a moment before he took the photo, he was going to say something, then talked himself out of it."

"You noticed that too -"

"He would never say anything."

"No, I think he needs you too much."

"He needs us too much, love. Us. I'm no good without you. You must know that by now."

"Yes, I know, but why don't you show me how much you need me."

"It would be my pleasure."

 

"How much for the book?"

"It's yours, been there for years, just collecting dust. Please, my father spoke of you fondly. You bought that old anatomy class skull years ago. He mentioned you in his letter to me."

Sherlock laughed. "Probably called me a freak or something along those lines."

"No, he thought you were just lonely, needed a friend."

"Uhm...when you have time, can I buy you a coffee or dinner, in return for the book? Please?"

"How about now? I was about to have my tea, usually do at this time - it would be nice to have it aaaaaaahchhhhhooooo, sorry, off premises for once."

"I know a good Italian place nearby -"

"Angelo's?"

"Yes, know it?"

"There every Friday - "

"I've never seen you before -"

"Usually sit at the bar, never need a table."

"If we go in together, he may assume we are dating."

"Don't mind if you don't."

"Nope, don't mind in the least."

"Let me write a note, then we can go."

 

"Sherlock! John? Finally! What took you two so long? A candle, you two need a candle."


End file.
